Note: There may be some mistakes because my Italian isn't perfect and I don't have a poetic bent either. I would be glad if you emailed them to me if you came across them: angela79at@yahoo.com or angela-joebstl@aon.at
The children in the sun, in the darkness, from the ice to the tropics.
have the same innocent look of one that doesn't know.
They have always the wish for another caress that fixes the curls,
to dream, to sleep, to play as long as they want.
The children bought and sold for little money.
Taught to steal, to lie, to throw themselves away.
The children expect miracles on Christmas
but millions of them don't know on which day it is.
But what a world is this,
that doesn't respect anymore,
the diversity and naivety of the little ones?
But what wind is there,
I feel that it sweeps us away and that it throws down,
the innocence that will never come back again.
The children have different faces but the heart is similar.
To warm themselves they only have the need for humanity.
But they find a world that doesn't make the angels fly.
And like arrows, the time will throw them far away then.
...
Tell me a fairy tale, you tell me,
if I can't sleep in anymore.
Find a fairy tale, tell it to her,
make that she dreams a bit more.
We will return to Venice
when you'll want it,
we'll discover the lovers
enclosed in us.
Honeymoon,
water and haze,
Piazza San Marco,
the libraries,
alone among many,
hearts of lovers,
between flight and reality.
Room overlooking
the lagoon,
fog of autumn,
games of the moon,
a masterpiece
between my arms
you were and you were mine.
We will return to Venice
when you'll want it
to wake up the lovers
enclosed in us.
To hold the sunset
and dissolve in eternity
in a moment of love without time.
Slow gondolas
on the old canal,
flowers in the water,
like a sign
is an elegy,
your magic,
and it's already evening over us.
Full of inlaid work,
pastel colors,
blurred sky
like a crystal,
it's almost dawn,
I extinguish the light
and you are Venice.
Time consumes the joy and the pain.
Like stones of the sea it polishes the heart.
And you think of money, of hate and of pleasure.
But the time to love, where is it?
The world is a carousel that sells emotions.
Fatal attractions and brutal instincts.
And you want more and then always more.
But the time to love, you must tell me where it is.
The time to say to you
once more "I love you".
Go far
where nobody is,
where the silence sings,
where the sun is free,
to say to you "I love you"
knowing that it's true.
Belong to a world that is very complex.
Between fights and power and questions of gender.
It's a life in a zoo that doesn't pay more.
It spends the time of a man gambling that wants only
Low flights of seagulls over the sea,
they are going away.
What stays left of our summer
pure nostalgia.
All these memories of nights and full days
endless.
Old fishermen that devote themselves to watch
how big the sea is.
We walk looking disheveled, you with a bit tight jeans
me with your taste.
A pullover on the beach, and we
we embraced.
Where umbrellas were, sellers of balloons
only we.
More, more, more.
I want it tremendously.
If this love tastes of you
I'd like that for my life.
More, more, more.
I want it intensively.
If this love tastes of us
I think more about it and I'd want it more.
More.
The wind arises and suddenly it's almost evening
as the sea changes.
Over the lighthouse the seagulls are already sleeping
it's time to come back.
We'll stay in the house without friends
this evening.
How many new things still to say and then to do
in this night.
The moon speaks
with the night.
Beautiful
as you are beautiful.
See
how strong the light is.
It shines
to give us a bit more.
Dreams
with the chains on the feet.
Dreams
in semi-liberty.
Alone
like nude children.
Lost
on the beach without time.
A great love can't live only from the smell of roses.
But it challenges the time with the smile and the cries while things change.
It becomes strong, as it is strong what it gives.
It tears open doors that nobody will close.
A great love mixes up with the earth where it takes roots.
And it is confirmed and mirrored every day on the faces of the friends.
It becomes true when you want truth.
It tears open heaven until heaven will come.
Dreams
that already taste of yesterday.
Sign
that the time flies and goes.
Flights
of our true years.
Where
something will stay.
Babylon, between whites and between blacks.
Confusion of races, values and thoughts.
This song is a cry for love.
Sha-E-O.
The ravens sing around an old house.
A child is born, the mother becomes a new wife.
Outside, between the mountains they are murdering God.
There's a voice in my heart:
All this will end.
There's a voice that cries in my heart.
Sha-E-O.
This is a cry that is born from my heart, it's
sha-E-O.
Always more red is the water of the grand river.
Empty is the granary where one is hungrier.
Arm of iron among people without piety.
There's a voice in my heart.
You too will listen.
This is song that is born from the heart.
This is a song about a better world.
Sha-E-O.
Not Sarajevo!
Seven o'clock.
Nazis and anti-Semites will be criminal while in Germany the raging of skinheads doesn't stop who have hurt another Turk.
They will be crimes in the Italian state busy as others in Europe coping with a new wave of xenophobia.
It's a violation against the human rights and the rights for minorities.
..Before the faculty of law of the university of Rome entitled to the judges Falcone and Borsellino, full of students yesterday
A great tanker carrying thousand of tons of crude oil is said to be sinking off the Northwest coast of Spain. Oil is leaking from the ship's hole.
To foreigners it's advised to take a pistol in the bag with them
Violence has caused UN officials to close the city's airports for the past few days choking off with violence in Sarajevo.
World, there's a world that has no peace.
World, there's a world that turns and doesn't go.
World, in this world will be an Eden
when in this world a new man will be born.
...
Africans, Pakistani,
how many hands reaching for bread.
Mogadiscio, Sarajevo,
Medieval age at the door of 2000.
And the fight is not only artillery.
It's born out of indifference and apathy
yours and mine.
...
The slush funds, the kidnapping,
the merchants able in making
mightier deposits
with the friends of the cheating friends.
And the night will be more black and you'll see,
also you that you live sowing troubles.
You'll see it.
(This is your world.
I know that it doesn't go.
Only if you want.)
This is your world.
Make that it is a paradise.
Night and day,
never the same,
beautiful and proud
I want you.
Night and day,
sun and moon,
never is anybody
like you.
Night and day,
between the stars
is a force
here with you.
Night and day,
war and peace,
water and fire,
me and you.
You are exciting, overwhelming
and I don't know what but I feel something in me.
Maybe it's madness or alchemy
but without many stories I confess you.
Night and day, day and night.
I'm made but for you.
Night and day, day and night,
I lose myself in you.
You are a winning card.
You are the top of a mountain.
You are clear water where there's no water.
Wild spring,
feeling of rain,
glowing ice,
what better thing is there?
Night and day,
it's an inferno
when around
I don't have you.
Night and day,
it's not just,
there's no style
without you.
Scheming demanding,
and tell me what can I do for you?
Break the earth, steal the sky,
I'll do everything now.
...
You are the odor of incense,
feeling of eternity,
on this world that is too small now.
...
We are sons of the wind.
We are sunrays.
We are snow flakes,
what better thing is there?
And the sail glides away,
there's a dolphin in its wake,
the corals with the tides,
suddenly like an idea it comes up
very tender, very tender
on you.
The melancholy flying away,
gray times, absurd madness,
in search for new energy
and an inner peace that would be
very tender, very tender
like you.
Hug me more,
make me feel that it's you,
the wind that drives on
the infinite breath
of another future,
you.
Sailing becomes a part of us,
it's a light in the haze
that is flamed by your dreams that you want,
that takes a life that is
very tender, very tender
like you.
It's a miracle.
I see a world, a beautiful world
and I feel that it's right so.
It's a miracle.
I see it also with your eyes
and I see people that are happy with the life that they have.
But there's one that says that peace isn't important.
And love that one feels mustn't ever be exposed.
Why never? I look around
and there's one that speaks very nice but without saying the truth.
Love
it would need to let you go
to real love.
Because time goes
towards a tomorrow that will change us.
And the life goes
but every day that I wake up with you is a miracle.
It's a miracle.
There's one that lives lonely in separation,
in total independence and always thinks only of himself.
But the substance of life is in union,
in elements, in roots, in vibrations that you give
and in love.
You make love with the
universal ideas.
...
And every child that I have with you is a miracle.